Mrs. Weasley was tired. But like all mothers, fatigue wasn't one to stop them from completing household chores. Sighing deeply, she trudged along the hallways, the bedroom doors swinging open with waves of her wand and the laundry clothes flying into the basket floating behind her. She finally reached Ron's room, the last room of the hallway and gave her wand a swish as her free hand covered a huge yawn coming out of her.
But this was odd. The door wasn't opening...and the only way that the door wouldn't open with the charm she was using to collect dirty clothes was if someone locked it. But who locked it? Everyone was downstairs...or so she thought.
Her tiredness slowly disappearing, Mrs. Weasley put herself on guard. Checking around cautiously she silently whispered "Alohomora!" and was satisfied to hear an unlocking click. Wand poised, the door swung open and the sight she saw caused the laundry basket to drop with a large thud.
"Oh my goodness!" she yelped, slamming the door shut in surprise. Several pairs of feet were heard thundering up the stairs, and soon enough, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George and Mr. Weasley appeared, breathless, but with their wands out and looking alert.
"Molly, what happend, dear?" Mr. Weasley questioned quickly, his eyes darting about looking for a culprit.
"Yeah, Mum, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Fred exclaimed.
Her back towards the door, blocking any entrance or exit of any sort, Mrs. Weasley shook her head very slowly as she urged herself to slow down her breathing. "No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine. A--a mouse just gave me a fright, that's all," she said nonchalantly. The members of her family looked at her skeptically, but they all shrugged and slowly returned back downstairs to continue whatever it was they were doing. Except Ron.
"Well, if you're sure, Mum," he said. He then stepped forwards. "'Scuse me, Mum, but I've got to get something from my room--"
"NO!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, waving her hands frantically in the air. Ron looked at her, puzzled, his hand still outstretched for when he was reaching for the doorknob. Mrs. Weasley's mind was working at warp speed, trying to think up something clever to say. "Erm...the mouse is still in there...you see, when I saw it, it ran into your room and I trapped it in there. So--so I think it's best that I get rid of the mouse first. I'll let you know when you can go inside you're room," she said breathlessly.
Ron looked at her with an odd look. But he had already come to the conclusion that his mother had tendencies to go beserk, so he just shrugged it off and made his way downstairs. "Alright, if that's the case..."
His red head disappeared from sight as he descended the steps. Taking deep breaths, Mrs. Weasley composed herself and slowly opened the door and peeked in.
Harry and Hermione were standing, looking very sheepish and flustered, in their clothes that were obviously rearranged so as not to look too disarrayed. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Weasley curtly cut her off with a raised hand.
"It's alright, I don't want to hear it." She then looked at the two of them seriously, and sure enough the pair of them looked sullenly down at their feet as if they were her very own children and they were being scolded by their mother. "You two may not be my own children...but...I would prefer that you keep such activities out of the house?"
Harry and Hermione nodded solemnly. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley," they chanted together.
Mrs. Weasley looked upon their bowed heads. These two were very close to her family, and if anything happened to them--
"I think it's time that I've scheduled a 'chat' with you two. Let's say later on tonight, after dinner?" she said.
Harry and Hermione looked up, horrified, for they knew just what she wanted to "chat" about.
"Oh no, Mrs. Weasley--"
"You don't have to--"
But Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No, I insist. Now, I just have to ask Arthur if we have anymore bananas...they're very important in what I am going to talk to you about." She walked away, chattering to herself as the laundry basket trailed innocently behind her.
Harry looked at her retreating figure, his face still frozen on the horrified look. Hermione looked as if she were about to faint.
"Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing! Harry, how could we have let Mrs. Weasley catch us-" Hermione coughed. "-kissing?! I hope she doesn't go to my parents about this...oh they'll be horrified! And now she wants to talk to us! Do you know just what she's going to talk to us about, Harry? This is not good...if Ron finds out, we'll never hear the end of it! What are we going to do, Harry?"
Harry was staring, speechless, out into the empty hallway.
"Harry? I said, what are we going to do?"
Harry turned his head to look at her, and the only words he managed to squeak out were, "Bananas? What does she need bananas for?"
* * *
Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, covered in soot because of travelling by Floo Powder, almost falling head first into the group of Weasleys that were already there. He coughed a few times and dusted some of the soot off his robes as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley divided the eight of them into groups, as usual.
"Right, so Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. You lot can go off and go buy your school supplies. Fred, George, you--"
"We will be at the Apothecary. Our stash for homemade pranks is low, and there's an interestingly high demand for--"
"I don't really want to know," Mrs. Weasley said wearily. "But yes, we'll all meet here at half past four. That way we'll be home in time for dinner." Mrs. Weasley emphasised the word 'dinner' and gave a pointed look to Harry and Hermione, who both coloured.
The large group broke up into their smaller groups, and soon, Harry was walking the cobbled stones of Diagon Alley. Ron was talking wildly about visiting Quality Quidditch Supplies because they had just got a new product, and Ginny was just as excited. It was only Harry and Hermione who were unusually quiet.
Harry was lost in thought for the events that had passed that very morning. The mere thought of it made his face burn. He and Hermione had been caught up in a morning snog. A very good morning snog, Harry thought, the corners of his lips twitching. His amusement immediately dropped as he remembered that that particular snog had been interrupted by none other than Mrs. Weasley, who was innocently collecting laundry from her children's rooms.
And because of that, Harry gulped nervously, he and Hermione were scheduled to have a little chat with Mrs. Weasley. Most likely about the "miracle of life". His train of thought was abuptly cut off as Ron gave him a slap on the back that came harder than it usually did.
"So, mate, is it Quality Quidditch Supplies then?" he said jovially, with Ginny beaming beside him. Hermione looked rather withdrawn from everything that was happening around her, which Harry could understand fully. He put on a smile, willing it not to look too fake for Ron and Ginny's benefit (the last thing he needed was for them to find out what was causing his mood) and nodded. They were just about to set off for the shop, Ron practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, when Hermione shook her head.
"You know what? I think I'm just going to go over to Flourish and Blotts," she said. Ron's face dropped slightly.
"What, how come? I mean, I know you don't particularly enjoy Quidditch, but you usually always come with me and Harry," he said.
Hermione sighed. "Yes, well, it seems that I'm just not in the mood to tolerate Quidditch babble. I'll see you later, then." With a short kiss on the cheek for Harry she set off, a little quickly than was necessary, and disappeared in the throng of people towards the direction of Flourish and Blotts.
"Oh well, that's Hermione," Ron said, shrugging. His mega watt grin then adorned his face. "Let's go!" And he bounded towards the shop, with Harry and Ginny trailing behind, lightly laughing at the ecstasy Ron was demonstrating over Quidditch.
* * *
Diagon Alley was enough to drive the humiliating thoughts from Harry's mind. He wasn't too sure about Hermione, for she had spent the entire day at Flourish and Blotts. When he met up with the rest of the Weasleys, Hermione was the last to arrive, breathless and holding a bulky bag of what Harry assumed was books. After everyone was accounted for, each took a pinch of Floo Powder and were engulfed in the emerald flames, swirling towards The Burrow for dinner.
As soon as everyone began to tuck into their chicken and potatoes, Harry's feeling of foreboding returned. It was difficult to chew properly and when he swallowed, it felt as if he were swallowing large stones that fell into his stomach with a "kerplunk". His insides seemed to have disappeared for the time being, but it was only when everyone started cleaning up their plates that they returned to his body, full force like a Bludger hitting him in the stomach.
Harry and Hermione mutely brought their dinner plates to the kitchen where Fred and George were doing the dishes (with their wands) and seriously engaged in a game of Exploding Snap.
"Let's go up to my room," Ron said, after they had set their plates into the sink. "We can--"
"They can't do anything, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said sternly, stepping into the kitchen. "I would like to have a word with them." The seriousness in Mrs. Weasley's voice shocked Ron. He looked open-mouthed at his friends, wondering what they did in order to get a lecture from his own mum. He mouthed the words "what'd you do?" to them, but Mrs. Weasley quickly shooed him out of the kitchen.
"Fred, George, that's you too," she said. Fred grunted, his eyes still fixated on the cards in front of him (which were smoking, therefore bound to explode any second) and George waved a hand dismissively.
"Honestly, Mum, we're in the middle of a game!" he said. Two things happened at once. The cards exploded, but not because it was supposed to, but because Mrs. Weasley made them explode and a plate that was washing itself in midair dropped and shattered.
"Out. Now," Mrs. Weasley said, positively glowering. Fred and George, knowing when not to be rebellious, quickly strode out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley shook her head, rubbing her left temple. "Those two," she sighed. "Reparo!" she chanted, waving her wand. The remnants of the plate immediately returned to its original state. With another flick of her wand, the dishes resumed washing themselves.
"Alright, Harry, Hermione. Take a seat," she said, gesturing kindly to the table. Harry and Hermione obeyed, not speaking a single word. They sat next to each other, and Mrs. Weasley sat across from them. She placed her wand on the table and gently folded her hands together and sighed deeply, looking up at the ceiling.
"Now, I want you two to listen closely to me. I've done this talk many times before, what with Bill, Charlie and Percy announcing that they had girlfriends."
"What about us?" a voice echoed from the stairs. Either Fred or George, no doubt.
"What did I say?!" Mrs. Weasley yelled, enraged. Two pairs of feet ran up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley focused her attention on Harry and Hermione again.
"Sex, Harry and Hermione," Mrs. Weasley began (Harry thinking that she sure knew how to cut right to the point), "is a gift. It isn't just some... tool that you can use everytime you want to get off." Harry and Hermione's mouths dropped. Were such words really coming out of Mrs. Weasley?
"It takes two people that love each other very much. Both parties have to be sure of the huge step that they are about to take. One little mistake and wham! - " Mrs. Weasley slammed the table, making Harry and Hermione jump about a foot off their seats. They were already so jumpy at having this talk...why did she have to make it worse? " - you end up with children. Which brings me to the sorts of protection that they use during inter--"
"Uh...Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione brusquely, yet timidly, cut in.
"Yes, dear, what is it?" Mrs. Weasley said.
"Erm...well, I was just thinking that...maybe you don't have to have this talk with us, you know? Um...really. You see, I was at Flourish and Blotts all day today and I was able to get these certain books, right?" Hermione quickly ducked beneath the table where the bag that she was carrying earlier today was stored. She pulled out two thick volumes, one titled The "Magic" of Life and the other The Birds and the Bees: A Muggle Take on Sexuality. Harry's face immediately turned an interesting shade of a cross between magenta and crimson at reading these titles.
"I've already flipped through them, and really, they offer a thorough explanation and a clear outlook on..." Hermione stammered. "...sex. So, if Harry were to read these too, I believe that we'll be all set!" She put on a hopeful smile. A little too hopeful that Mrs. Weasley would see the logic in this and cut this very embarrassing chat short. Her eyes then widened in humiliation as she reflected on what she had just said. "Not that Harry and I were planning on taking things this far, no, no!" Inwardly, Hermione wanted to die on the spot. If asked, Harry would not object joining her.
"That's great, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said as she flipped idly through the pages. "But this is something you really can't learn from a book." Hermione's jaw dropped. She knew that not everything could be found within the pages of a book, but nobody had ever told her so blatantly.
"Now, as I was saying...protection." Mrs. Weasley got out of her seat. "I'll just be a second!" She wandered into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Hermione alone at the table. Both simultaneously sighed and leaned back into their chairs. In no time at all (Damn it, Harry thought) Mrs. Weasley returned. She was holding a banana.
Hermione sunk low into her seat, her face rivalling the vibrant red of Weasley hair. Harry could guess that he looked about the same...or worse. He had an idea what that banana was going to be used for--
"Now this banana. Let's just use our imaginations, shall we? This banana is going to represent-"
"Molly!"
The hand holding the banana dropped, and Harry and Hermione let out breaths that they had been unknowingly holding.
"What is it?" Mrs. Weasley snapped, turning to see Mr. Weasley standing behind her looking apprehensive.
"Molly, it seems that your laundry has gone..." He scratched the back of his head. "...haywire."
Mrs. Weasley looked at him dumbly. "Haywire? What do you mean, Arthur?" she asked.
"I mean, that two shirts have gotten into a wrestling match and one of your scarves looks like it's about to strangle something--" Just then, a pair of jeans came running, with a pair of socks following behind them, around the table into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley gave a great sigh and heaved herself out of her chair.
"For Merlin's sake!" she bellowed, as she set towards the kitchen in a rampage. Harry, Hermione and Mr. Weasley coud hear her shouting spells and charms to prevent the clothes from doing any damage.
"That was close, wasn't it, kids?" Mr. Weasley whispered, only loud enough for Harry and Hermione to hear. The two of them looked at each other questioningly and then stared at Mr. Weasley.
"Mr. Weasley, what--"
"She was giving you 'the talk'. I know...she was holding that blasted banana." He looked fondly over at his wife, who was chasing the pair of jeans up the stairs. "Hmm...Molly giving 'the talk' really isn't the best idea. It's not her specialty. Besides, I think you two are smarter than what she gives you credit for."
Realising that they were being let off the hook, Harry and Hermione nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir!" they said.
"Good. Promise me that you two will be careful then," Mr. Weasley said, looking down at them like an amiable father.
"We will, sir," Harry and Hermione replied.
"Good." Mr. Weasley straightened up. "Well, now that that's settled...for future reference, if you're up for a-" He coughed. "-morning snog, there's a small patch of forest just out to--"
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley!"
"Night, Mr. Weasley!"
Harry and Hermione scampered off, rushing to escape to Ron's room leaving Mr. Weasley's sentence hanging. They had just narrowly missed a Sex Talk with Mrs. Weasley, and the last thing they needed was Snogging Location Advice from Mr. Weasley.
"We are never, ever, going to snog here at The Burrow, ever again," Hermione told Harry as they reached the hallway and were walking towards Ron's room.
"Agreed." Harry said quickly. "But only at The Burrow, right?" he added, an impish grin on his face.